


The Holiday Effect

by Antipode



Series: I Was Lost Without You [15]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Reunions, Fluff without Plot, Holidays, Post-Mass Effect 3, Sweet, little blue babies, shiara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antipode/pseuds/Antipode
Summary: The Little Blue Babies come home to Intai'sei for the holidays. Post-ME3, happy ending.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Liara T'Soni
Series: I Was Lost Without You [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937521
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	The Holiday Effect

The green-skinned asari stood slouched against the sleek, black skycar, arms folded, keen eyes scanning those disembarking from the shuttle. Intai'sei's blazing sun seemed to barely touch her, despite the dark, almost black mottle on her commando leathers and the conspicuous lack of shade. Most of the current occupiers of the transport terminal were humans, their curious gazes rebuffed by an unblinking stare as sharp as the edge of the short-bladed knife she display openly, strapped across her torso. Between the stare and the knife, it was enough to dissuade any onlookers from drawing too close or looking too long.

Any onlookers save two.

"Auntie Shiala! Auntie Shiala!"

A flurry of long, coltish blue limbs in a green-and-white lab jumpsuit detached from the disembarking travelers and dashed across the sun-scorched ground. The tall, lanky young asari flung herself at the matron, wrapping her in a fierce hug, while behind, her shorter, shapely sister, clad in a floor-length black and red high-necked gown and burdened with considerably more luggage, merely beamed in delight.

"Benezia! Goddess, look at you, you're near as tall as your father!" Shiala exclaimed. "Nearly as strong, too… the Cadres will be lining up to recruit you, soon. And Aethyta, look at you… you are the picture of your mother, dear." The taciturn bodyguard couldn't contain her smile as she gave Benezia another squeeze and then strode over to help Aethyta with her bags, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "What have you brought? You've enough clothes here for a year!"

"I don't have the luxury of getting to wear huntress leathers - or whatever 'Nezzie calls clothes - every day," Aethyta teased. "The Republic demands I maintain House T'Soni's glamorous appearance."

"I am sure Mom and Dad and Grunt and Auntie Shiala and her commandos will all be very impressed at your designer attire," Benezia rolled her eyes. "Nobody else is here, laser-brain."

"Glyph will be there," her sister countered, tilting her crest dramatically. "Glyph will appreciate my impeccable style."

“Good luck getting your social media posts past your mother’s extranet security filters,” Shiala chuckled, loading the skycar with luggage. “She is every bit as privacy-obsessed as her mother was, and ten times more technologically savvy.”

“Is everyone else here, already?”

“Yes, Grunt arrived late last evening.” The three of them slid into the skycar’s climate-controlled luxe leather interior all three visibly relieved by a reprieve from the sun’s brutal heat. “He and Shepard have been working on something in the garage. I do not know how the two of them handle this planet. The heat I can manage, but there is no moisture to the air.”

“Well, Dad’s ancestors came from a desert on Earth, didn’t they?” Benezia shrugged. “Maybe it is genetic.”

“Subject of your next thesis?” Shiala aimed a crooked smile at her niece from the rear view mirror. “Are you going to dip into xenoanthropology, like your mother?”

“I will stick to astrophysics and quantum mechanics, thanks,” Benezia laughed. “Numbers are precise. Organic life is random and complicated.”

  
  


The Shepard-T’Soni love-nest on Intai’sei was a long, low structure about an hour’s drive by skycar from the main shuttle terminus, nestled amidst the sun-baked, sand-swept canyons of the desert world’s main interior continent. The legend of how Shepard had won it from Admiral Ahern by besting his vaunted combat simulator program grew slightly more exaggerated with every yearly retelling, but the real wonder was how the isolated home had survived both Cerberus retaliation and the Reaper War. Over the years following the War, Shepard and Liara had slowly but surely transformed the once-spartan Admiral’s retirement home into somewhat of a romantic getaway for when the two of them needed to escape Thessia, Earth, the Citadel, or quite frequently, all three. Greenhouse-domes dotted the front yard, and a rather ingenious irrigation system - courtesy of the finest quarian/geth engineering - had turned parched stone and sand into a pretty little oasis, far from prying eyes and politics.

Shiala expertly piloted the skycar to the compound’s landing pad, several hundred meters from the home proper. She’d asked once, why they’d elected to put the ‘pad so far away. Liara had rolled her eyes subtly, but with her trademark lopsided grin Shepard had explained that the intervening distance meant she had ample time to put her hardsuit on and start lining up shots at uninvited guests. The memory always brought a smile to Shiala’s face - you could take a huntress out of the hunt, but you’d never take the hunt out of the huntress.

The front door slid open as the crossed the lawn, and both young asari dropped their luggage to throw themselves at the figure who stepped out, Benezia once again a tangle of hugging arms while her slightly more graceful sister hung back for her turn. If Benezia was her father's daughter, Aethyta was her mother's - both asari were on the shorter side, with soft features and full figures. The T'Soni Matron looked a hundred years younger, somehow, her face a radiant smile that put the sun to shame, her blue eyes twinkling. The yellow of her gown and the warmth in her expression gave her the appearance of a flower in full bloom. Liara’s face lit up into a glowing smile as she embraced her daughters.

“Goddess, it is good to see the two of you! Oh, look at you, my daughters... Oh, I wish my mother could have seen you. You look wonderful - Benezia, how did your exams go? And Aethyta, when do you start at the embassy? Come in, come in, your father and Grunt should be in shortly. Glyph, go and fetch Sybilla and Grunt, will you..?”

“Hi, Mom,” Aethyta grinned, stepping into the shade of the home’s threshold; cool earth tones, warm stone underfoot to retain heat in the freezing nights. “Wow, you look  _ great! _ Seriously, Matron suits you, your breasts look  _ amazing _ ! What's different? Hot date tonight, or something? New lover?” Her grin widened. “Does Dad know?”

Liara rolled her eyes as the four of them stepped inside. At one point, the entrance hallway to the Intai’sei home had included a rack of weapons and ammunition, of all things; both Shepard and Liara had wanted  _ that _ gone as quickly as possible, opting for plants native to both Earth and Thessia in tasteful alcoves and wide hall with a domed ceiling. Ancient artifacts dotted the “Goddess, but everyone seems to be commenting on my breasts, of late. Aeava said the same thing. So did you, Shiala, now that I think of it.”

“I deny everything,” the green-skinned huntress said with languid innocence. The four asari laughed - it was a perfect imitation of Shepard, both in word and tone.

“No, there was a mix-up with my luggage from Thessia, and I was sent a case of my mother’s old attire. I thought it had been lost, what with… well, everything that happened.” She smoothed out an errant wrinkle in the sumptuous, shimmering yellow gown. “I always loved this dress of hers. And it does do wonders for the figure.”

“You  _ do _ look great,” Benezia agreed. “But it’s more than the dress. 'Thyta's right, you look like a Maiden again. Goddess, you’re practically glowing.” Her green eyes widened as her brain caught up with her mouth. “Mom, are you-”

Liara was quiet, studying the floor. A coy, helpless smile was spreading rapidly across her face. “We were going to wait until dinner to-”

Her daughter cut her off with an excited squeal and threw her arms around her again. This time Aethyta didn’t wait, wrapping up both mother and sister in a fierce hug as they all laughed and shed happy tears.

“Mom! Goddess! A baby sister… When- How far along are you?”

“Not long,” the Matron confirmed. “Too early to touch minds, yet, but the impressions are there. We haven’t told anyone else. Well, save Shiala, of course.”

Benezia gave her mother another squeeze. “Dad must be-”

“Dad must be what?”

The girls squealed in delight again as a sinuous shadow appeared in the hallway. Despite having just passed her hundred and first birthday, the indefatigable Shepard still looked ready to wrestle a krogan. Greasemarks spotted both skin and clothing, and there was a tear in her t-shirt. Her curly black hair, finally free to tumble about after seemingly decades bound, carried more than a hint of silver, and there were cracks and creases on her tawny face instead of just scars, but overall it largely seemed that age was another opponent who simply could not overcome the (ex-) Commander. Her signature lopsided grin nearly cracked her face in two as she gathered up both daughters in still-powerful arms and showered both with embarrassing kisses.

"'Nezzie, 'Thyta, my beautiful girls… I've missed you."

"Missed you more," Aethyta challenged, feigning a pout.

"Missed you most," Shepard laughed, kissing her on the nose.

"Dad, what are you covered in?" Benezia wrinkled her nose. "You smell."

"That's her latest project," Liara groaned. "Some sort of early Earth vehicle she's trying to restore."

"It's a Triumph TR-6 Trophy!" Shepard crowed. "Like Steve McQueen, in The Great Escape? She's almost ready to ride, I think. It's not exactly easy fixing up an internal combustion engine from the 1950s, but I think I've finally got it."

"It is a miracle," Liara deadpanned. "As your father grows older, she imagines herself feeling younger."

Shepard's grin widened as she wrapped her arms around her bondmate and planted a wet, grease-marked kiss on her cheek. "You weren't complaining about how young I was feeling last night… or this morning… or this afternoon…”

Aethyta and Shiala howled with laughter. Liara and Benezia, conversely, turned identical shades of red, the latter covering her face with her hands and the former swatting at her incorrigible wife.

" _ Sybilla..!" _

"Dad,  _ gross _ ..."

"C'mon, sis," Aethyta giggled. "How d'you think this new baby sister happened?"

Shepard guffawed. "I  _ told _ you they'd be able to notice."

"Are they  _ that _ much more prominent?" Liara huffed.

"Yes," four voices deadpanned simultaneously, before they all dissolved into laughter once more.

"What are we laughing about?" a bass-voiced rumble echoed through the hallway. Grunt was no less hulking and intimidating out of his armor, but the identical grease stains to Shepard that dotted his face and civilian clothes had an almost comical effect. 

"Hey, big brother," Benezia grinned, pulling him into an awkward hug, Aethyta a half-step behind her.

"Staying out of trouble? No noodle shop arrests?"

"I'm never living that down, am I?" Grunt chuckled stonily.

"Never," Aethyta confirmed. "So have you heard the big news?"

The krogan scratched his head. "What, that I'm too heavy to ride the motorcycle?"

"You haven't noticed anything  _ different _ about Mom?" Benezia leered.

"Uhhh…"

"Oh, Goddess…" It was Liara's turn to bury her face in her hands.

Grunt peered at her. "Your… uh… crest? looks… nice?" He glanced over at Shepard, then at the girls, then at Liara, then back to Shepard. "Help me out here."

"Well, put it this way," Shepard chuckled. "You're about to be even  _ more _ outnumbered than now."

  
  


"So," Grunt grunted, shuffling awkwardly in the arched doorway of the solarium, studying his feet intently. He'd managed to clean himself up - somewhat - while Shepard and the girls were working on dinner and Shiala patrolled the perimeter. Now he was looking somewhat awkward and uncertain.

Liara, lounged on a low couch in the filtered warmth of the sun, peered up from her book but said nothing. She'd come to understand the thought process of her strange, adopted krogan "son," and knew he'd unburden himself in due time. A light smile played on her face - for such a strong creature, the krogan was surprisingly sensitive.

"I uh. Suppose congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, Grunt," she murmured. "Truly. I am glad you could spend this time with us." Her smile widened. "It is good to be with family, is it not?"

"I guess," he scratched at his chin. "It's better than being in that tank."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

They were silent for a time.

"Shepard doesn't miss the fighting," Grunt said suddenly, almost accusatory. "I don't think she's killed anything in years."

"I do not think so, either," Liara said mildly.

"She's not soft. Nobody would dare call her soft." He grimaced. "I'd _ kill _ anyone who dared call her soft." His tone lowered. "But the fight isn't in her anymore. And I don't know what that means."

"Can I tell you a secret, Grunt?" Liara noted her page and closed her book, sitting up. She beckoned for the krogan to sit next to her. After a moment, he did, taking a seat on the divan with surprising delicateness for such a large creature.

"When we meld, I can see into Sybilla’s mind. Her thoughts, her memories, her feelings…” She smiled briefly. “I see her soul. And beneath the scars, the pain she’s caused and that which she has inflicted, the walls she’s built to keep herself strong… within all that there is a heart that has longed for peace.”

“That… doesn’t sound like Shepard,” Grunt frowned. “She is my Battlemaster. She has no equal. The skulls of a thousand thousand foes lay at her feet. Death has twice tried to claim her and has twice been denied. How could the greatest warrior the galaxy has ever known long for peace?”

Liara sighed and took Grunt’s massive paw in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It is  _ because _ she desires peace that she fights so fiercely, Grunt. She fights to defend those she loves. It is what drives her, what gave her the strength to carry on through the long war. She fought so that others - others like our children, like this child - could grow up in a galaxy free from the wars that filled her own life.”

Grunt was quiet for a few moments. “Okeer’s voice taught me to fight, but he never gave me a reason why. I fight because fighting is what I am.” His big, reptilian eyes turned to the asari at his side, tiny in comparison, but it was the krogan that seemed small. “If there are no more wars left to fight, what good am I?”

She squeezed his hand tighter. “Is Sybilla any less a warrior to you, now that her fights are in a Council chamber and not a battlefield?”

“Shepard is my Battlemaster,” Grunt repeated, instantly. “She has no equal.”

“Then consider where you sit, Grunt. Here, in this home, with us. With me.”

The krogan frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your Battlemaster? The one with no equal?” Liara smiled. “Thinks so highly of you that she trusts you in her home. She trusts you with her bondmate. She trusts you with her  _ children _ . Your Battlemaster, who fought the Reapers and broke a million-year cycle to protect the ones she loves, trusts  _ you, _ Grunt, with the ones she fought for.” She patted her belly; not yet beginning to swell, but she could feel the life growing within her, the tiny mind just beginning to form, to dream. “She trusts the life of her wife and her unborn child in your hands, Grunt. That is what the greatest warrior the galaxy has ever seen thinks you are worth.”

Grunt lifted his head. Liara couldn’t see his eyes clearly, but she thought she detected the tiniest glisten, the slightest catch in the massive krogan’s voice.

“I am… a protector. I safeguard my Battlemaster and her family. That is… worthy.” He nodded to himself. “That is worthy.”

Liara wrapped herself around the big krogan’s arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “I am glad you could come home to see us, Grunt.”

“Yeah,” he said with surprising softness after a moment’s silence. “Yeah. Me too, Mom.”

  
  


Commander Sybilla Shepard had stood on the prow of warships and commanded entire fleets, had led commando squads of the finest troops in the galaxy on desperate missions, had personally spearheaded one of the largest ground assaults in Council history, a gallant, near-suicidal charge against the greatest threat any species had ever faced, ever. She was a consummate battlefield leader; fearless, decisive, and possessed of a confidence born of a seeming invulnerability, and infectious sense that the Commander could not and would not fail.

Tonight, she was clad in a red N7 bandanna to keep her hair up, her armor a “kiss the cook” apron. Her weapon was a chef’s knife and a wooden spoon; her troops, a pair of not entirely but almost completely culinarily-incapable adolescent daughters. Her battlefield was a painstakingly-engineered and surprisingly-well-appointed galley kitchen in a cool, domed circular chamber, outfitted with everything she could ever need and exceedingly well-stocked with a far-reaching list of ingredients. Aethyta and Benezia sat at the far end of a long kitchen island, each clutching a glass of wine and eyeing the pile of produce and spice their father was assembling with rising skepticism.

“Sooooo… what are we making?” Benezia tilted her head quizzically, her nose slightly wrinkled.

“ _ We’re _ not cooking,” Aethyta drawled in a dead-on impression of their father. “We’re helping her drink wine.”

Shepard snorted and sniffed at the bottle before pouring herself a glass. “Funny. I didn’t realize this wine was so  _ acidic _ .”

“Hah.”

“And to answer your question, my doting, sweet, and significantly less-sassy daughter,” Shepard grinned, waggling her spoon in their general direction, “we are, as usual, making a meze.”

“Making a mess, more like,” Aethyta murmured into her wineglass.

“Glyph,” Shepard’s voice rose to a battlefield pitch, causing both daughters to wince, “throw this space-pirate out the airlock for me, would you?”

“This facility is not equipped with an airlock, Councillor,” the info-drone chimed helpfully.

“Alas.” She shrugged. “Thanks anyways, Glyph.”

“Of course, Councillor,” the drone burbled happily, drifting about the kitchen, seemingly ‘happy’ to be around people.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being called ‘Councillor,’” Aethyta mused. “Not that you haven’t earned it.”

“Just wait until you have to start addressing me as ‘Councillor’ at the embassy,” Shepard jeered, her knife a blur of cucumber slices and diced onions and herbs.

Aethyta batted her eyelashes. “You mean I can’t call you ‘Daddy’ in my Council briefs?”

Shepard laughed. “Not if you don’t want Tevos to bury you so far under paperwork you don’t crawl out until you’re a Matriarch, you can’t.” She waggled the knife this time, sending chopped herbs flying about. “And you’d better get used to calling  _ her _ ‘Councillor,’ as well, and not ‘Auntie Aeava,’ too.”

“I already made that mistake,” Aethyta blushed, taking a long drink. “I thought it would be safe to call her Auntie Aeava when it was just us two, in her private chambers at the Citadel. Oh, but the lecture she gave me… I think they saw the red of my face on Armali.”

"You have to let  _ her _ lower her public face, make the first move," Shepard offered. "She's not always so upright, even if she pretends to be. I imagine you being my daughter, it might take a century or two for her to loosen up, though."

"So many silly games," Benezia rolled her eyes. "This is why I am sticking to academia."

"Yes, I imagine theoretical astrophysics must be  _ much _ simpler than negotiating trade agreements and settling border disputes," Shepard chuckled. "Have you figured out how to revolutionize space travel again, yet? Or are you saving that for your third doctorate."

"I haven't revolutionized anything," Benezia blushed. "I just submitted a theory that-"

"That makes Mass Effect Theory look like the motorcycle engine I'm working on in the garage," Shepard beamed. "I read it. Your mom had to explain most of it to me, but I got the gist. It's incredible! My little supergenius... Not so little - did you grow another inch? Are you growing again?"

"Dad, I'm seventy." The asari rolled her eyes.

"Which is what, fifteen in asari years?"

"That's not how it - Goddess, you're impossible," Benezia groaned, unable to hide her grin at her father's antics.

"So your mother tells me." She expertly flipped a sizzling pan, wafting the smell of fried garlic and onion across the room. "I'm proud of you. Of both of you. My little berries, all grown up..."

"Misty-eyed already?" Benezia teased. "How much of that wine have you gotten into today?"

"No danger of any diplomatic incidents yet," she laughed. "But I'm working on it."

"I'll have Glyph on standby for when you start wrestling Grunt," Aethyta giggled. "I can see the Westerlund News headline now: 'Drunken, disreputable human Councillor accosts innocent krogan."

"I'd wrestle Grunt sober. It's when I try to put Shiala in a headlock that you need to worry." She slid a pair of plates their way, loaded with vegetable slices, crumbled cheese, and several dips. "Eat something, if I get you drunk before dinner your mother will never let me hear the end of it."

"Did you learn to cook in the navy?" Aethyta asked around a mouthful of flatbread.

"Hell, no," Shepard laughed. "I learned to cook in _ spite _ of the navy. You should have seen Kaidan and I in basic - a couple of always-starving biotics, smuggling cookbooks and contraband ingredients in our footlockers, raiding the mess in the middle of the night. Fire watch  _ hated _ us."

"I'll bet Mom still doesn't cook," Benezia giggled, waving a labneh-loaded cucumber slice. "She's so spoiled, having you here."

"Oh?" Shepard aimed a crooked grin her way. "How much cooking do you do on campus, berry?"

"I'm not a berry," she blushed.

"You'll always be my berry," her father assured her, ruffling her crest as she passed. "If you think I'm embarrassing now, wait until you start bringing your dates home. I'm saving my best material."

“Dad…” Aethyta’s face fell, lip quivering. Green eyes brimmed with sudden wetness. Her voice was very small. “You’re not… You aren’t going to... We still have lots of time with you… right?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Shepard soothed, dropping her cutlery, across the kitchen in a flash to put her arms around both daughters. “We’ve got lots of time, my honeys.  _ Lots _ of time, okay? I’ve never been healthier, and I’ve got a team of doctors to take good care of me if I ever need it.” She risked a smile. “Perks of being Earth Councillor.”

The two asari clung to her very tightly, Benezia’s head on her shoulder, Aethyta’s buried in her neck, clutching a fistfull of hair like she used to as a baby. “I’m sorry,” she muffled, “I just… I just thought about Uncle Kaidan, and… and I got scared.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Shepard cooed. “Look. When I was… Look. When Auntie Miranda patched me up, all those years ago… well, let’s just say there’s a  _ lot _ of cybernetics involved. I don’t get sick. I heal faster than a human’s supposed to. And if a mirror is any indicator… I don’t seem to get old the same way others do, too.” She stroked her daughters’ crests. “I don’t know how long, exactly, we’ve got, my little berries - but I get the feeling I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, okay?”

“You promise?” Aethyta peered up at her.

She pressed a kiss to each scaly blue forehead. “You aren’t the first pretty asari I’ve promised to always come back to.”

  
  


Liara was unsurprised to find Shiala in the study, warming herself in front of a crackling fire as she patiently fed it kindling. It had become somewhat of a ritual between the two of them, when Shiala had rejoined Liara's staff in the aftermath of the War. The old commando had her back turned to her, but somehow offered her a respectful nod while knelt. "Matron. The perimeter is secure. Kaarisa and Taix are on the door, and I put Aliphea, Jeniraa and Beiase on the house. Shepard has the duty roster for the morning."

"You know," Liara mused as she swept across the carpeted floor. "You've served the T'Soni household guard my entire life, and I've never asked you - do you enjoy what you do?"

The green-skinned asari rose, standing at what Sybilla would have called parade rest. Her sharp features focused as she seemed to consider the question.

"Sometimes, Matron, I do what I want to do." She shrugged. "The rest of the time, I do what I am bidden."

Liara smiled and went to a small cabinet among the shelf-lined walls, procuring a dusty bottle and a tall, fluted glass. "Will you sit with me? And perhaps have a glass of elasa on my behalf?"

Shiala inclined her head graciously. “As you wish, Matron.”

Liara’s smile widened as she poured for the huntress before sinking into a plush armchair. It was the same game nearly every night.

“You honor me, Matron.”

“I think I can be just ‘Liara’ now, don’t you?”

The huntress rewarded her with a rare smile of her own, as she did every night. “As you wish… Liara.”

Liara made herself comfortable, stretching out cat-like in her chair. She eyed Shiala’s glass of wine, enviously. “How long has it been since we had the whole family under one roof?”

Shiala took a sip before answering, nodding in appreciation at the vintage. “Lawson’s funeral, I believe. Two years ago.”

Liara murmured in agreement. “I miss Miranda.” She sighed. “And Kaidan. And Tali, and Garrus, and Wrex, and Joker… Jack, and Samantha, and James… Goddess, I find myself missing Javik at times, of all people!" Her smile shone through the tears forming in her eyes. "We've been to too many funerals, these last few years, Shiala."

"Such is the way of things," Shiala said, not unkindly. "Once I thought it a blessing from the Goddess that our people live so long, see so much. Now I think of it as another duty."

"A duty?" Liara tilted her head.

"Yes," Shiala nodded. "We live so long, see so much… we touch so many lives along our Path, brief candles that flicker out. And yet, to look upon that Path from on high, all those little candles meld together into a great fire, a fire that lights our way, keeps us warm with those memories, guides us along the length of our own wicks. It is our duty to see each candle that guided us remembered, honored, so that it may light the way for others."

"That is… beautiful," Liara whispered. 

Shiala tilted her head in acknowledgement, her smile soft and gentle. "You still have time, child. She is not young, for a human, but there is length in her flame yet. Those that would say the brightest candle burns twice as fast had never met Shepard."

"During the War, I thought every new day might be our last. And then, when we finally won, I thought 'I don't have to be so scared, anymore.'" She hugged herself, shivering. "I'm still so scared of losing her, Shiala."

"I look at your daughters and I see Shepard," Shiala reminded her. "She will never leave you, not truly. The love you share, the joy, the family you've raised, will leave a mark of light and life and color that you will look upon fondly for all your days, child. Take comfort in that."

"But I want  _ her _ for the rest of my days," Liara said, very nearly pouting.

Shiala laughed lightly. "You are your mother's daughter. Incapable of hearing 'no,' even from Death herself."

After a moment, Liara joined in the laughter. "I suppose I  _ did _ bring her back from the dead once, already." She wiped at her face. "I miss Mother, too."

"So do I," Shiala whispered.

They sat in silence for a few moments. "You loved her," Liara said quietly. It wasn't a question.

"I did," the old commando affirmed.

“That’s why you-”   
“Yes,” she nodded again. “That is why I willingly submitted myself to the Thorian. I would have done anything for her. I was a fool, so foolish that I’d do anything she commanded, too fool to do the one thing she  _ needed _ , which was set her free.”

Fresh tears brimmed in Liara’s blue eyes. “And Sybilla did what neither of us could.”

“She did.” 

“At the release, when I was presented before the Conclave,” Liara sniffled, “they asked me why I had brought Sybilla. They expected me to hate her. Some advocated for her death. Others offered to carry out the deed on my behalf.” She looked at her protector, her family’s most loyal servant. “But you… you understood. I always loved you for that.”

Shiala’s small smile returned. “I do admit to wondering if Shepard herself understood what she had done for us, in coming to Benezia’s release to the sea. But when I saw her next to you, offering her shoulder, her support, her strength…” The commando shook her head. “The two of you were still too young and stupid to know you loved each other, but it was plain to the rest of us.”

Liara spluttered, half-sitting up. “You knew, even then?”

Shiala groaned. “Like you’d handed me a hand-written note saying ‘Dear Shiala, I love this human, please help me.’ You were absolutely  _ hopeless _ , child. Both of you were.”

Bright red, Liara giggled after a moment. “I suppose I was pretty hopeless. I didn’t understand why Sybilla would ever have been interested in-”

“-In a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, charming Matriarch’s daughter, who happened to be extremely skilled in biotics  _ and _ very helpful in the most important mission she’d ever been assigned?” Shiala rolled her eyes. “Goddess.”

“I was hardly her type!” Liara argued. “She was a soldier - beautiful, dashing, fearless… I was this timid, naive, bookish thing she rescued. By rights, she shouldn’t have spared me a second glance.”

Shiala stared at her flatly. “‘Timid.’ Tell me - which one of you initiated things, hmm? Was it the dashing, fearless Commander, or the ‘timid, naive, bookish thing?’”

Liara’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a few moments.

“You look like a fish,” Shiala observed dryly. After a second, they both laughed.

“I suppose I  _ did _ go to her chambers, before Ilos, and suggest that since we may die, that we might as well, ah…” She bit her lower lip, flushing with a sudden heat at the memory.

Shiala groaned. “ _ Goddess _ . I do not know whether to applaud your shamelessness or ridicule you for the oldest line imaginable. ‘We may all die, tomorrow, so make love to me tonight?’ Really, Liara?”

“It worked,” Liara pointed out, shocked at her own audacity.

This time, it was Shiala’s turn to flounder silently.

“You look like a fish,” Liara said with a great degree of satisfaction, and after a second, both asari laughed until tears ran down their cheeks.

  
  


“How does Grunt  _ always _ get out of doing the dishes?” Benezia grumbled good-naturedly, running a dry rag over a series of wineglasses. Her words were a little slurred, her vision a little blurry, and the warmth that ran through her was equal parts wine and a truly excellent meal. Next to her, a similarly-buzzed Aethyta scrubbed hummus and labneh from the dinner plates and stacked them by her sister.

“Because he always breaks the plates,” she offered, dunking another plate into a basin full of suds.

“Is that all?” Benezia’s lopsided grin made Aethyta think of Dad. “I’ll drop these wine glasses  _ right now _ . Goddess, how did we end up with so many of them?”

“You can never remember which one is yours,” Aethyta chortled, “and you take everyone elses’. Also, Dad insisted that the huntresses join us, and you started drinking  _ their _ wine.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Or, at least, the cute one with the Armali markings…”

“Aliphea,” Benezia sighed wistfully. “What a  _ babe _ …”

“‘Nezzie,” Aethyta admonished, giggling. “You  _ cannot _ drunkenly make out with Mom and Dad’s bodyguard. That is, like, the plot of every bad holiday romcom.”

“Nooo,” Benezia challenged. “She’d have to be the laid-back asari backwater huntress that makes me, the high-strung Citadel academic, slow down and learn the true meaning of the holidays, or something.” She grinned, cheekily. “And  _ then _ we drunkenly make out.”

“You’ve watched too many of those,” Aethyta rolled her eyes.

“Oh, sorry,” Benezia stuck out her tongue. “I forgot, you don’t do romance.”

“I don’t even- ugh,” Aethyta groaned. “I don’t have  _ time _ for romance. And even if I did, I have  _ centuries _ to find someone to settle down with.”

“Who said anything about settling down?”

“Okay, then,” Aethyta guffawed. “No wonder you want to stay at University forever…”

“So what if I like to have fun,” her sister said, defensively. “I’m only seventy. Like you said, we have centuries ahead of us. Are you telling me you don’t play the Maiden on the Citadel?”

“I work for the asari consulate,” Aethyta huffed. “I don’t have time to play at being a Maiden. And Tevos would strip the scales off my hide, anyways.”

“Wow, sis. If this wasn’t such a backwater, I’d say we should borrow the skycar and sneak out. But there’s nowhere to go, anyways.”

Aethyta blushed. “Well… maybe next time you’re on the Citadel, you can sneak me out of work? I miss you. We don’t get to have fun together, anymore. I’m always working, and you’re at school…”

A glowing smile crept over her sister’s face. “I’d really like that, sis. I… I miss you, too.” She ruffled Aethyta’s crest affectionately. “My sweet, innocent little sister…”

“Goddess, you  _ would _ have to ruin such a nice moment,” Aethyta stuck her tongue out. “And I’m younger than you by  _ seconds _ , laser-brain.”

“Still younger,” Benezia crowed. “C’mere, little sis.” She grabbed her in gangly arms and squeezed, wrapping her in a tight hug. Aethyta squirmed with a giggle.

“Stoppit, you’re gonna ruin my… wait, shhh, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Shush!” The shorter asari pressed a finger to her sister’s lips. “Listen with your aurals, not your mouth.”

From elsewhere in the house, the sound of gentle piano keys echoed. Aethyta’s eyes lit up. “Ohhhh, they are  _ so _ cute…”

“What?” Benezia peered at her in confusion.

“You want romance? Follow me,” her sister giggled. The two of them crept not-so-silently out of the kitchen, bickering good-naturedly in whispered tones as they slowly made their way to the study at the far end of the house.

A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting light and warmth across the study and its bookshelves lined with old tomes, and plus armchairs and thick pillows scattered about. Glyph glowed blue, hovering off to the side of the room, speakers activated to play a familiar tune, a slow waltz. And swaying cheek to cheek in the center of the room, without a care in the world, were their parents.

Sybilla had her hands at Liara’s waist, and Liara had hers about Sybilla’s neck. Their mother had her eyes closed, and the smile plastered on her full lips was like rain in the desert. Sybilla was whispering things in her ear that were making her cheeks bloom pink, her green eyes focused on her wife like there was nobody else in the entire galaxy. Neither of the asari girls knew how long they’d been there, and they seemed in no hurry to do anything else; just sway in a slow circle together, luxuriating in each other’s warmth and presence, whispering words of love and affection to each other to the tune of a familiar song.

Benezia’s eyes glistened and she clutched her hands to her breast. “That’s so sweet…”

“They’re so cute,” Aethyta agreed. “Can you imagine? More than seventy years together, and they’re still like teenagers around each other.”

“Well, Dad  _ is _ like a teenager…”

“They’re so in love,” Aethyta ignored her. “Can you imagine being in love like that?”

Benezia sighed longingly. “Yeah…” She grinned. "See, Dad's gonna be fine. She's happy, Mom's happy, baby on the way… She's fine."

"I know." Aethyta chewed her bottom lip as they crept away. "I just…"

"You're just the biggest Daddy's Girl in the galaxy," Benezia finished for her, "And you want her around forever. I know."

"I am  _ not _ the-"

"Shhh," her sister playfully shushed her. "We don't want to disturb them, right?"

"You're impossible…" She shook her head. "Anyways they're in their own little universe. They'd never notice."

Benezia’s grin widened. “Think they’ll be in their own little universe long enough for us to finish that leftover bottle of elasa?”

Aethyta giggled. “Definitely.”


End file.
